Guilty Pleasure
by stonald
Summary: It is no secret that the Treblemaker's very own Donald has it all—from the panty-dropping looks to the intense sex appeal—and the amount of ladies who would willingly drop trou for him is quite appalling. But the Bellas might as well have his female equivalent in the form of Stacie. So what happens when some sick twist of fate brings them together?
1. Prologue

The rhythmic sound of footsteps against the wooden floor brought her back to reality again. She was slipping in and out of consciousness. Of course, the amount of alcohol in her system was partly to blame. How many drinks did she have? Three? Five? Who knows? All she remembered was making out with some random dude she was grinding with on one of the concrete bleachers during Aca-Initiation before she blacked out.

But she didn't really care. Blacking out during parties, especially parties with lots of booze, was her thing. And when she wakes up, she's either fully clothed on the same exact spot she lost consciousness or naked on a warm bed with really fluffy sheets. The second options was always better than the first but she wasn't picky. But tonight was one of those nights where she thought she was going to wake up to the sight of the morning sky over her head.

That was before she realized she was _moving_.

And it wasn't the "flail-on-your-spot-because-you're-uncomfortable" type of moving. She felt a pair of warm hands wrapped around her back and underneath her legs, grazing her bare skin (Thank God her legs always looked flawless in shorts otherwise it would have been embarrassing). Her fling for the night must be taking her back to his room. She nuzzled her head between the crook of his neck, slowly taking in his scent with a laugh. He, whatever his name may be, smelled like alcohol and sweat when they were dancing (or rather grinding) to some mainstream club music Justin prepared for the party. She was expecting that stench to infiltrate her nose because, again, she wasn't a picky person.

But instead of that putrid smell she was expecting, he smelled... nice. And she was a hundred and one percent sure it was _Axe_. That familiar smell was definitely _Axe_. Don't ask her why she knows, she just does. Her curiosity got the best of her and she desperately wanted to find out who was carrying her. But the hallways were too dark to see anything and sobriety was currently a thing of the past for her. So she did what she had to do: she kept quiet and waited for things to take its course.

"Ugh," she groaned, touching her right temple with her free hand.

"Are you okay?" the stranger asked. His voice rung a bell but she couldn't quite point a finger on it. "Don't worry, babe, I'm not gonna take advantage of you. Taking advantage of pretty ladies when they're drunk isn't my style. Can you tell me the directions to your room, though?"

She didn't respond. Her head was starting to throb as too many thoughts started racing in her mind. Who the hell is this dude? Why is he asking for directions to her room? Why, of all people, was he lugging her around the Barden University dormitories at midnight, keeping her away from the raucous that is Aca-Initiation?

She started panicking.

Where's the rape whistle when you need it?

He chuckled, adjusting his hands more securely around her body. "I guess I'll have to ask the dorm head then."

* * *

"So that's a right turn then a straight to the last door on the left side of the hall?"

"That is correct."

"Thank you, Ann. We'll be on our way now. Thanks for the help."

His sneakers squeaked against the floor as he turned and started walking to the direction of her room when the same voice he talked with a few seconds ago spoke. "Donald, dear, you aren't going to, you know—"

"What?! No, of course not! I'm not _that _type of person," he replied defensively, subconsciously tightening his grip around her legs.

"Just checking. Anyways, you best be off, young man. And take care of that girl," the lady, whose name must be Ann, added.

"I'm just dropping her off in her room, Ann," he said. "And what did you say her name is again?"

"Stacie," Ann replied. "Her name's Stacie."

* * *

**A/N: **Hey, guys! So this idea just sprang up inside my head one day because, come on, the shipper feels are quite difficult to hide! Anyway, this is just the prologue so that explains the shortness of it and whatnot. Ann is an original character and I envision her to be a woman in her early fifties, working the night shift in the Barden University dormitory department.

So what do you guys think? Do you like it? Love it? Hate it? R&R, maybe?

Oh, god, I love you. - 


	2. Axe

Daylight poured through the windows as Stacie groaned, squinting at what seemed to be the brightest morning she's ever woken up to in her entire life. Drawing the drapes before going to bed was a habit she definitely had to work on. One of the many habits she had to work on at least. She moaned audibly as she buried her head into one of her pillows. The throbbing in her head had gotten even worse than last night and it was safe to say she was sporting the world's worst hangover.

"Shit," Stacie hoarsely mumbled, wrapping the blanket tightly around her body. "Way to avoid the alcohol." She snapped her eyes shut, scratching an itch on her stomach through the fabric of her white tank top.

_Wait a minute_, she thought. Stacie bolted upright, her eyes probing her feet then her legs then her chest. She then whipped her head to the bed across hers, more specifically to the figure peacefully slumbering on that bed. It was her roommate, Devon. She's a medicine major who has an unhealthy obsession over anime and teeny-bopper boy bands.

"Devon," Stacie called out but her roommate didn't seem to hear. "Devon!"

"Five more minutes," Devon mumbled, slightly shifting underneath the covers.

Stacie grabbed one of her pillows, harshly throwing it across the room to Devon's face. "Hey, wake up, you little bitch!"

"Goddamnit, what do I have to do to get some peace and quiet around here?!" Devon snapped. She slowly sat up, rubbing the sleepiness away from her eyes with her fists. "You better have a good reason for waking me up."

Stacie leapt out of her bed and quickly jumped onto Devons' bed, grabbing her by the shoulders. "How did I get here?"

"I don't know, you tell me," Devon replied sheepishly, cocking her head to one side with an innocent smile plastered on her face.

"Dev, I'm serious!" Stacie bit back, locking her gaze on the mocha-skinned beauty in front of her. "Did anyone – _anyone _– at all, bring me back here last night?"

Devon twisted out of Stacie's grasp, scrunching up her nose. "I'm not really sure who it was, Stace. I mean, I was asleep when someone came in here at around midnight. I was pretty sure it was you 'cause you told me you'd be back by midnight after that initiation thingy–"

"Aca-Initiation."

"Aca-Initiation, whatever. So I kept the bedside table lamp on 'cause you know how dark the room can get. And I didn't want you to wreck anything because you'd probably be drunk–"

"Hey!"

"You know it's true! Now stop interrupting me, okay? Jesus, woman, you're getting worked up for nothing on a Saturday morning. Anyway, I kinda looked over to check up on you, you know, to see if you're gonna be able to get yourself on the bed in such a drunken state. But then I realized a _dude_ was carrying you and I thought the two of you were gonna start fucking each other in front of me, leaving me perpetually scarred forever, but then he just made sure to tuck you in bed and then he left."

Stacie's mouth hung open in disbelief, slowly processing the information Devon just delivered to her. What happened last night? She mentally cursed herself for being too drunk to remember anything. Her eyebrows furrowed in concentration. "Did you see his face?"

"Nope," Devon replied, popping the _P_. "His backside was hot, though. And he was wearing maroon trousers which hung dangerously low on his hips. Oh, and a jacket in the same colour. The table lamp emitted enough light for me to determine the colours. Despite my horrible vision, of course."

Shit.

It was a _Treblemaker_.

A _Treblemaker _brought her back to her room last night.

"Fuck," Stacie groaned, burying her face in both her hands. "If Aubrey saw that, I'm done for."

"If Aubrey saw what?" Devon asked. "What are you so worried about?"

"It's Bella-related stuff. I don't expect you to understand," Stacie said. Running a hand through her dark hair, she sighed. "What time is it anyway?"

"Seven minutes before ten," Devon answered while checking her phone for the time. "Nine fifty-three."

Stacie's eyes grew as wide as dinner plates and before she knew it, she was digging through her suitcase for clothes. "I'm going to be late for Bella rehearsals!"

Even thought Aca-Initiation only happened yesterday, Aubrey already scheduled rehearsal dates, sifting through each member's individual class schedules so she'll know when they're free or not. They have rehearsals which start at ten in the morning on Saturdays. She's such a slave driver, really. Even though she puked the Barden Bellas all the way to the bottom of the a cappella list. But that's not stopping her from "taking down those dick licks" (Aubrey actually said that in front of them).

As Stacie stumbled to the door, Devon chuckled, making Stacie stop dead in her tracks. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing!" Devon replied too quickly, raising her hands up in surrender. "Are you sure you don't know who he is? You don't remember doing _it_ with him or anything? Because you sure as hell smell like him."

"Smell like what?" Stacie asked in surprise. Now we're going somewhere. "Devon, what do I smell like?"

"_Axe_," Devon answered cheekily. "The dude smelled like _Axe_, that's for sure."

* * *

With a piece of toast pursed between her lips, Stacie tied up her damp hair in a messy bun as she scampered to Bella headquarters. She didn't even get to shower properly and she hastily slipped on a pair of _Victoria's Secret_ sweatpants and her trusty crop top over a black bandeau. She hurriedly made her way to the cafeteria to grab a quick breakfast. It was twenty minutes past ten, which means she was already twenty minutes late! Aubrey was going to kill her.

"Crap," Stacie cursed as she chewed on her bread, half-running/half-walking to her destination. "Today just isn't my day." She fished out her phone from her sweatpants' side pocket as it buzzed loudly. Aubrey's name flashed on screen as the text message loaded.

**Aubrey: **_Where are you? You're late. Everyone's already here._

Stacie quickly typed in "_i'm on my way :)_" for a reply, with a smiley face for good measure. She was silently praying to whatever heavenly body was generous enough to hear her prayers of desperation. She had no plans of getting kicked out of the Bellas for being unpunctual.

Stacie suddenly bumped against someone, saying a quick "sorry" as she continued to trudge on the busy hallways of Barden University.

But _that_ familiar scent caught her off guard and it made her do a quick double take.

Standing there in that maroon _Treblemaker_ hoodie was _that _guy. What's his name again? Donald? Stacie wasn't really sure if that was his name, but she recognized the jet black hair curled to perfection in front and those black-rimmed glasses he always wore.

And the masculine scent of _Axe _was emanating from him.

"Holy. Shit."

* * *

**A/N: **Holy shiz, I didn't expect to get _that _much reviews on the prologue! You guys don't understand how much I appreciate 'em. For everyone who favourited, reviewed, and followed, thank you so much! Cyber hugs and kisses to you!

So this is officially the first chapter to this fic! Chanel Iman as Devon's face claim. And Devon is based off my best friend in real life so that's a little fun fact for you guys.

What do you think about this chapter? Did you like/love it? Did you hate it? R&R! I'd appreciate it very much.

**_Lots of Love, Aly_**


	3. Phone

"Bumper, man, leave me alone," Donald said, his tone laced with annoyance as he ran a hand through his dark locks.

"No can do," Bumper replied in a singsong voice. "I'm not leaving you alone until you tell me _everything _that happened last night."

"Nothing happened, okay?" Donald answered with much finality. "I'm telling you, man, nothing happened between the two of us."

Donald leaned against the wall, shoving his hands in the front pocket of his jeans. It was only ten in the morning but Bumper miraculously managed to annoy the living hell out of him already. Bumper didn't return to their room last night and Donald was grateful about it since he didn't have to deal with a drunk diva while trying to get some sleep. But Bumper or no Bumper, he still didn't manage to get a single wink of sleep last night. No matter how hard he tried to shut his brain down, mentally telling it to go to sleep before he slaps himself, his thoughts still drifted back to _her_.

It wasn't exactly an uncommon feat for Donald to check out ladies who peg him as bang tidy at first sight: any girl with a slender body and a nice rack of boobs and an ass to go with it. So when Justin announced the schedule for Aca-Initiation, the Treblemakers buzzed with anticipation at the thought of it alone. He wasn't quite sure if they were excited for the same reason he has, but Donald already kept his priorities straight.

He was going to have some in between the sheets action with a random chick that night.

The Treblemakers arrived earlier than everyone because Bumper insisted they go ten minutes earlier than the designated time, just to show to everybody that they were better for being there first. (Donald wanted to smack some sense into him.) Justin and a bunch of other guys were setting up massive stereos and other sound system equipment around the place. Donald decided to grab a drink while waiting for the other groups to pour in, eyeing a couple of girls whose boobs or butt stood out from the crowd. None of them actually struck him as worthy of being bedded, being the picky ladies' man that he is, so he almost gave up hope on getting some bedroom action.

_Almost_.

"Donald," Bumper said in a pleading voice, "I saw you dancing with that Kori girl."

"Then what else do you need to know?" Donald snapped, throwing a stern glare at Bumper's direction.

"I need to know what happened between you and that other girl!" Bumper whined like a bratty twelve-year-old girl. "The one with the _massive _boobs, man! I mean, come on, everybody knows about your reputation as the ladies' man. Don't tell me nothing happened between the two of you last night."

"That's because _nothing _happened!" Donald said with finality. "Jesus, if I tell you nothing happened then nothing happened, okay?"

"Oh, so you're telling me you just randomly decided to carry her around the campus while she was unconscious and brought her back to her bedroom like a proper gentleman?" Bumper exclaimed in a mocking tone, smirking.

Donald blinked, looking at the chubby figure waddling in front of him. "How in the world did you know that?"

Bumper shot him a "You-have-got-to-be-kidding-me" look. Donald held his arms up in surrender, unsure of what to say next. He's always appeared to be the ladies' man around Barden—a thing he's quite proud of—bedding a different girl from time to time, making sure he never sleeps with the same girl twice because that ruins the whole point of one night stands. Bumper knew him better than anyone else; they've been best friends since the day they've met in campus. So when the words slipped out of his mouth, he wanted to sink into the ground and never resurface ever again.

"Oh, man," Bumper said in an awe-stricken voice. "Dude, stop yanking my chains!"

Donald furrowed his eyebrows in embarrassment, crossing his arms over his chest like a spiteful five-year-old whose mom refused to buy him ice cream. "S-so what if I did, huh? It's not like there's a law prohibiting me to do that, is there?"

"No, I don't think you understand the degree of what you just did," Bumper answered, zipping up his maroon Treblemaker jacket. "Man, I can't believe you actually did that!"

Donald rolled his eyes, avoiding Bumper's teasing eyes as he pulled out his phone from his pocket. He adjusted his glasses on his nose as it threatened to slide off. He wasn't going to have any of Bumper's bullshit today. He was too caught up in his own thoughts to even _care _about what the little fuck has to say. All he could think about was how her legs looked so... irresistible in those skimpy denim shorts. Or the way her milky white skin contrasted against his darken one when he held her in his arms last night; the perfect comparison. Or how well-defined and curvy her torso was in that fitted tee, which made her boobs look bigger than they already were._  
_

_Damn_, Donald thought. _Why didn't I do_ it_ with her last night?_

He sighed heavily, fumbling with his stupid phone which wasn't of any help at all. His next class wasn't up until eleven and Donald was _desperate _for a distraction from everything. If another filthy thought about shagging her brains out surfaces from his brain, he was going to blow.

On the other hand, Bumper was busy fiddling with his phone too. At least he had the decency to finally shut up. Donald decided to scroll through his messages, thumbing through the line of text messages he received from various people when a harsh force suddenly plummeted his right shoulder, causing him to drop his precious phone on the ground.

"Sorry!" a female voice hurriedly said. Donald was about ready as a boy scout to spew out curse words at the clumsy oaf who bumped into him. But he held his tongue as he caught sight of the culprit who was zooming off away from him.

She suddenly stopped on her tracks, momentarily pausing before turning on her heels to look at him with doe eyes.

Realization hit Donald like a ton of bricks and he subtlety pointed at her without thinking, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, and he knew his cool, calm, and collected alter ego had taken over.

"You're Stacie, right?"

* * *

**A/N:** No, I am most definitely _**NOT**_ abandoning this story! I've been hospitalized for over a week, making me miss my finals so I had to take it alone after I got discharged. I also had to run all over the place (school) to get my clearance signed. And I'm co-writing another fic with my best friend on another website so I've got too much to handle at the moment. But I'm not going to abandon my Stonald babies because I love too much for my own good.

So this chapter is only a thousand something words long and I apologize for that. I haven't updated in so long and I feel like I owe you guys so much for the long wait so I had to write this filler chapter in Donald's perspective. But I promise you, the next chapters will have a standard word limit of 3,000 words because I know you guys hate short chapters (Well, I do!). And I'm really, really, really sorry if the story's progressing really slow! :-(

BUT! I really enjoyed writing this "drabble" because I got to write about Bumper!

I'd appreciate your reviews, favourites, rates, yada yada yada (Y'all know how it goes).

_**Lots of Love, Aly**_


	4. Walls

**WARNING:** This chapter is **Rated M **for a whole lot of reasons so embark at your own risk.

* * *

She ran off.

Of all the stupid things she could have done that day, it just had to be that. She didn't know what came over here. All she knew was she had to get away from him.

She almost failed, considering the way he stood there with his trousers riding dangerously low on his hips (which Stacie didn't mind at all) and that playful smirk playing on his lips. His smirk was panty-dropping as Stacie would classify it. She would have jumped on him right then and there if she wasn't in such a hurry.

But alas, duty calls and she can't risk anything.

Even if that anything is a steamy fucking session with Mister I-wear-my-trousers-really-low-because-I-know-it-drives-the ladies-mad.

"Shit," Stacie muttered to herself as she walked farther down the hall, not daring to look back at the dark-skinned sex god who just called her by her name as if they were acquaintances. The way he said her name was enough to cause some tightening in her lady parts, a sensation she hasn't felt for over a month since she hasn't had sex in that time span. How she managed to survive this long without a man ravishing her body is a mystery even to her.

When she finally arrived at the Bella headquarters, everyone was already seated on chairs, facing a huge whiteboard with words scrawled all over it. Aubrey was standing in front with Chloe; they were explaining strategies and song selections and a bunch of other gibberish Stacie didn't seem to catch. Chloe caught sight of her and gave her a radiant smile, gesturing her to take a seat while Aubrey scribbled something on the board.

Maybe gingers have souls after all.

She sat down on the empty chair beside a blonde Australian who calls herself Fat Amy. Stacie shot her a quick smile as she straightened up on her seat, trying to blend in with the rest of the Bellas as if she wasn't late. Beca Mitchell was occupying the chair in front of her and Stacie noticed she was lazily picking on a lint that was on her jeans instead of listening to Aubrey's overly-enthusiastic voice as she continued to write more on the board. Fat Amy was squirming uncomfortably beside her; as if she was itching to say something. Stacie got acquainted with both of them during Aca-Initiaion last night, and they were the only two who stood out in her memory because none of them a) tried to look down her boobs (unlike Cynthia Rose who seemed to have developed a habit of longingly staring at her rack since last night), b) spoke so softly that it wasn't even considered speaking anymore (the Asian one named Lilly freaked her out), or c) tried to get in her pants, which was completely understandable since they were both straight ladies and whatnot but still.

Beca and Fat Amy didn't irk her in any way so Stacie considered that as a sign.

"What have you talked about so far?" Stacie asked Fat Amy in a hushed tone, hunching a little bit so that nobody else could see her talking.

"Eh, nothing much," Amy answered in an equally quiet tone. "You know, except for Aubrey kicking out two members because of sexual relations to Treblemakers. No big deal."

Stacie blinked hard, a lump rising in her throat. "W-who got booted?"

"Kori and the chick with the glasses," Amy stated matter-of-factly. "They hooked up with a Treblemaker last night and you know how the oath goes. They knew what was coming but they decided to do it anyway."

Stacie gulped. Her hands were suddenly sweaty as she looked at the blonde in front of them, and she wanted to dig a hole and crawl into it so she can die.

_Shit_, Stacie thought. _I hope nobody saw that bastard's act with me last night or I'm done for._

Beca twisted on her seat to look at Stacie. "Kori didn't even show up. I think Aubrey already told her to get lost before we even started so that spared her from the embarrassment. The girl with the glasses wasn't so lucky."

"And trust me," Amy chimed in, "you don't wanna how her expulsion turned out."

"Amy, Beca, Stacie," Aubrey suddenly called out, making Stacie jump on her seat. "Is there something the three of you would like to share with the group?" Stacie wanted to wipe the bossy expression etched on her face but she decided to remain quiet. "Well?"

"No," Amy responded coolly and Stacie's heart hammered wildly in her chest. That wasn't the right thing to say. "We were just talking about cardio and how _great_ it will be."

The sarcasm in Amy's tone was evident but Aubrey didn't seem to notice it. Stacie heaved in a sigh, grateful for Fat Amy and her sharp tongue for having an answer to everything. Aubrey returned to explaining the routines they had to practice but Stacie's mind wasn't into it. The fact that nobody saw the little innocent scene involving her last night lifted a huge weight off her shoulders. She didn't care about a lot of things in her life right now.

Joining the Bellas, however, is a big deal to her. Being part of something she actually cares about is another matter. Stacie loves dancing, but not as much as she loves singing. There was something about "organized nerd singing" that appealed to her in more ways that one, and she didn't want to screw this up with some pleasurable fling with the enemy (even though said enemy is unfortunately blessed with extremely good looks and the sex appeal to match). She cared about this whole being a Bella ordeal way too much.

As Aubrey droned on about song choices, Stacie crossed her arms over her chest, shutting out the blonde dictator's voice as she concluded that it was going to be a long day.

* * *

"Dev," Stacie grumbled with her phone pressed against her ear, pinching the bridge of her nose as she strutted down the deserted hallway to the library. "I don't have time for this."

"Pleeeeease?" Devon pleaded on the other line, and Stacie couldn't help but smile at the image of Devon channeling her infamous puppy dog eyes, her bottom lip jutting out in a pout. "I'll clean your side of the room for a whole week if you do this."

Stacie sighed, running a hand through her hair as she smiled. "So where in the library did you leave your satchel?"

Devon started squealing and Stacie had to plug a finger in her ear upon hearing the shrill sound. "Thank you, thank you, thank you! Oh my god, you're the best, Stace! I love you so much, like, you don't even know and I just—"

"Breathe!" Stacie cut in, stifling a laugh. "Now tell me where you left it _exactly_ before I change my mind."

"Oh, wait, let me think…" There was a short pause. "Ah! It's on the floor at the very back of the library. On the right side where the Biology textbooks are. I've been studying all afternoo—"

"Dev, I don't need a back story," Stacie scolded and Devon muttered a bunch of "sorrys" (which took up a good thirty seconds of their time). "I'll be back in the room right after I find it, okay?"

"Okay," Devon exclaimed and Stacie heard her yawn. "I'm still wrapping a few things up here in the laboratory so don't wait up for me for dinner. But thanks a lot for this, Stacie. Really."

"No problem," Stacie said and Devon finally hung up.

It was already six in the afternoon but Stacie was feeling restless. Considering the "slavery" Aubrey had let them undergo during rehearsals and the preliminary orientation she had to listen to in each class she had that day, she should have felt bone tired but the exact opposite happened. On the contrary, she felt pumped up and energized. When she returned to her room at around five—finding it empty since Devon's last class doesn't end until 5:30 PM—she took advantage of the silence for a quick power nap that lasted for about fifteen minutes before taking a shower and changing into another set of clothes. She dug out a tight-fitting black tank top, throwing a denim jacket over it, and a glimmery silver skirt made out of light fabric that fell five inches above her knees.

She had the legs to go with it so why not?

Stacie flipped her hair as she turned the corner, the library door in sight. She twisted the door knob open, only to find out that the place was completely empty. Stacie slowly stepped inside, her heels clopping loudly against the tiled floor. It was quite dark inside; only the table lamp on the librarian's counter was on. A laminated sheet of paper with the words "**ON COFFEE BREAK**" printed on it was leaning against the lamp.

There was an eerie atmosphere in the room as Stacie hesitantly weaved her way through the wooden chairs and tables. She doesn't like eerie and silent places; not because it scared her like a ghost would suddenly barge through the wall. She doesn't even believe in those ridiculous supernatural stuff. The emptiness suffocated her because she's always been a girl who lived for parties (which are always noisy and boisterous and fun). She started to regret her decision of retrieving Devon's damn satchel.

"Hmm," Stacie hummed audibly as she tried to distract herself. She walked between various bookshelves, her hand running through the cracked spines of books neatly arranged in a line. She paused when a certain book caught her eye, and she bit down on her bottom lip to keep herself from laughing and moaning at the same time.

There was a copy of the Kama Sutra in between two autobiographies.

Stacie grabbed the relatively small and thin booklet. "How did you get in here?" She opened the front cover, her eyes automatically skimming the various positions you could do while "passionately making love" with someone. That familiar tightening near her inner thighs happened once again as she flicked through the pages. A burst of heat ignited in her stomach.

Well, reading a few pages wouldn't hurt.

She lazily made her way to the far right corner of the room. Not once did she take her eyes off the book's pages as she bit down on her bottom lip harder, she was afraid she was going to draw blood. But she didn't care at all. She's been deprived of any "fun" under the sheets for a month an counting. The least she could do was "research" on some things she could try out once she finds someone she can test her information with.

Stacie reached the very back of the room and, to her convenience, Devon's freaking satchel was haplessly sitting on the ground. She yanked the strap using her foot, tossing it up until she caught it in her hand. She placed the leather bag on the table pressed up against the wall; she decided to stand there and read more.

"Interesting book, right?" a husky voice whispered in her ear. Shivers ran up her spine, feeling the hot breath tickle the area around her ear. "Who knew this damn school would even own one?"

Stacie's eyes widened as realization dawned on her.

_Shit_, she though. _Shit, shit, shit._

It was_ him._

Stacie turned around—book still in her hand—only to be met my disturbingly dark eyes glinting with lust. She was paralyzed as she slowly took in his presence. His hair was still styled perfectly, curling up in front so his hair didn't mask his face. He wore the same old black-rimmed glasses but she had a clear view of his eyes. He reeked strongly of Axe and it turned her on way more than it should have. His hands were once again shoved into the front pocket of his trousers which, and she was getting tired of pointing it out, was riding dangerously low on his hips. Stacie resisted the urge to come closer to him. Not that she needed to because their faces were literally _inches_ apart. Even though she had heels on her feet, he still towered over her by a couple of inches so his breath tickled her lips. Stacie suddenly felt hot and relatively bothered.

"You're Donald, right?" I asked in the tone he used to ask me the same question this morning.

"So," Donald said, leaning forward to whisper in my ear again, "we need not to delve into introductions then?"

Whoa there, Shakespeare.

Stacie stiffened but regained her stance as quickly as she lost it. "You're quite the talk of the town. The ladies' man of the Treblemakers, right? Although I can see why that is."

Donald chuckled darkly, taking a step closer towards Stacie with his head down. "I've heard a couple of things about you too, _Stacie_." Stacie took a step back but Donald advanced with every step she took backward. "Like your amazing skills in bed."

Stacie felt a blush creeping up on her cheeks and she thanked the librarian for switching off the overhead lights. Donald would have used her blushing to his advantage. "Do you find that hard to believe?" she asked in a voice that could definitely be considered as seductive.

Donald seemed to be taken aback by the sudden change in her demeanor but his cocky smirk reappeared as Stacie moved back, and Donald took this as an invitation to advance on her even more until her back was pressed against the space between two bookshelves.

Then everything happened too fast.

Donald grunted as he placed both his hands on the wall, her head in between them as another smirk tugged at the corner of his lips again. Stacie's breath hitched in her throat as the book she was holding onto landed with a soft smack on the ground. Fire ignited in his eyes; looking at her piercing blue eyes down to her full and robust lips.

"I can't believe you're the same guy who brought me to my room last night," Stacie scoffed indignantly. "Why didn't you just do_ it_ when I was drunk?"

"Babe, that's not my style," Donald stated confidently, his hands sliding lower on the wall until they were leveled to her waist. "Where's the fun in fucking a girl when she's not even sober enough to remember the fantastic time I have her?"

He said it so confidently that Stacie felt a burning sensation near her groin. It was clear to her what Donald was trying to say: he's a pleaser. He just doesn't fuck girls for the sake of it; for the sake of being Barden University's notorious ladies' man. He fucks girls to prove to them that he knows what he's doing. That he isn't just another fling you would forget the moment you wake up.

He leaves you craving for more once your fling is over.

"What exactly are you doing here?" Stacie started playing with the bottom hem of his maroon v-neck shirt. She was glad he got rid of that stupid Treblemakers hoodie. It masked his well-toned and muscular torso that goes on forever. "Why would a guy like you hang out in a place like this when you—"

Stacie was cut off mid-sentence when Donald crashed his lips onto hers. Her eyes widened in shock as his body pressed up against hers; her lips unmoving as Donald held onto her waist. He slightly yanked the fabric of her tank top upwards, his hands coming in contact with the bare skin on her waist. Stacie felt a knot twisting in her gut. That's when she started kissing him back ferociously.

Her hands ravished his hair as she pulled him closer, feeling his hardness against hers as they continued kissing. His tongue glided over her bottom lip, begging for entrance, and Stacie gave in by opening her mouth for him to finally explore. Stacie moaned in his mouth and she felt Donald smile as his hand gently massaged her thigh, slowly going higher and higher until he caressed her inner thigh. Their tongues fought against each other for dominance as their kiss deepened: Donald was currently beating Stacie in that one. He started grinding his hips against her—momentarily breaking the heated kiss—as Stacie elicited a pleasured moan.

"You like that?" Donald grunted in her ear as he wrapped her legs around his waist. He didn't give her the time to answer as he returned to kissing her. Their tongues tangoed wildly and, damn, Donald has never kissed anyone this way before. His previous flings were okay—some were inexperienced—but none of them pegged his as an amazing kisser, one whose tongue can argue with his on the same degree. They were all the same with their bland kissing and Donald established the fact that no woman is capable of battling his kissing skills.

Until that moment.

Donald cupped her ass as he carried her to the nearby table, unceremoniously dropping her down without breaking the kiss. He pushed her with more force than he intended so her head slammed against the wood paneling. But Stacie didn't as much groan in pain. Donald shoved the chair aside as he stood in front of Stacie, spreading her legs so that he stood between them. Stacie draped her arms around his neck; Donald kept one hand firmly planted on her waist while the other one massaged circles within her inner thigh.

"Donald," Stacie moaned in his mouth. She tilted her head back and Donald trailed kisses on the exposed skin of her neck, eliciting another moan from her. Her back arched forward as she tried to contain another moan from escaping her lips. Donald kept a firm grip on her waist as she shivered in pure ecstasy. "Jesus Christ, Donald…"

"I could say the same about you," Donald whispered in a barely audible voice as he continued kissing her neck. His hand hiked up her skirt, teasing her by trailing his fingers on the band of her underwear. "Damn it, Stacie, why do you have to be so… so–"

He stopped speaking when he felt her body tense; she squirmed under his touch and he liked it. He enjoyed it. He felt powerful; he had dominance. Yet it wasn't enough to satiate his thirst. Stacie was already panting hard as she toyed with his hair, looking at him under her ridiculously long eyelashes with clouded eyes.

Donald smirked again, tugging at her bottom lip (which was already swollen as fuck) with his teeth. He felt his body heating up further and the sensual pleasure he was feeling felt inadequate. It was lacking. She was reading the Kama Sutra only a few minutes ago. _Maybe she wants to try out some of them_, Donald thought mischievously.

Stacie's face was flushed and sweat was beaded on her forehead as they willed themselves to go on. Devon wasn't going to return to their room anytime soon so what's the rush? Stacie slid her hands underneath his shirt—which was quite difficult at first since his shirt was basically sticking to his body—but she found a way. To her surprise, his stomach was rock hard but smooth. It was safe to say it turned her on more and more.

"Do you really want me, Stacie?" Donald snarled in her ear as he tilted his head back. Stacie's hands worked wonders underneath his shirt, touching him in sensitive spots. Soon, her hand flew to the buckle of his belt, sitting there and teasing him.

Looks like he wasn't the only one with tricks up his sleeve.

Donald fought back the moan threatening to escape from his lips as Stacie returned the favor of trailing kisses on his neck. Her kisses were light and feathery, tracing the curve of his neck to his well-chiseled jawline. It was enough to drive him insane.

"I think the real question here," Stacie said with conviction in her voice, "is do _you_ want _me_, Donald?"

She pulled on the collar of his shirt, locking her lips with his once again. But this time, Stacie took over, removing his glasses and wearing it herself. The glasses didn't do anything to her vision. He must be wearing it for the sole reason of him looking extremely attractive in them. The fucking bastard.

Donald felt he was losing.

He hated losing.

So he yanked her slender figure off the table and pushed her on the wall space nearby. He held her wrists tightly, slamming it on either side of her face as he gained on her again. He pressed his body against hers and grinded his hips more vigorously against her groin. She shut her eyes tightly, biting down on her lip, and Donald removed his glasses from the crook of her nose by using his teeth. They were building a pace; slow at first but gradually gaining speed as lust pumped through his system.

Or were those his hormones?

"D-Donald…" Stacie panted, her eyes still closed. She wanted to beg for more of this. The thing they were doing right now wasn't enough for Stacie either. She waited a whole month for her sex life to jump start once again, and Donald was doing a fantastic job. It looks like reading the Kama Sutra wasn't as pointless as she thought.

Donald craned his head to her ear, his haggard breathing tickling her ears again. "_Say my name._"

"What If I don't?" Stacie said mockingly in between breaths but Donald knew she was on the verge of cracking.

"Come on, baby," he urged on with a husky voice, "say my name the way you'd scream it when I'm fucking you senseless tonight."

Tears brimmed her eyes as Stacie bit her tongue; she wasn't going to boost his ego by abiding to his command. No matter how tempting it may be. She knew their encounters would end up like this after what happened last night. His "act of kindness" was only a stepping stone to whatever you call what they're doing right now. But two can play at this game, and Stacie was definitely _not_ backing down.

Donald continued grinding his hips, the sound of panting hanging in the air. For once the library wasn't wrapped in an uncomfortable silence. Then the sound of a door creaking open and shutting with a loud crash snapped both of them back to reality. Nobody dared to move or even breath when heavy footsteps pounded against the floor. Stacie's breath caught in her throat, her heart threatening to burst out of her chest as it pounded wildly, as she watched Donald who had a relaxed demeanor plastered on his face.

She wanted to slap the shit out of him for that one.

"Do—" Stacie was silenced by Donald's hand clamped over her mouth. She wanted to protest but the look in Donald's eyes said it all: Be quiet or we're both in trouble. She nodded at him to show that she fully understood what he was trying to convey. Donald dropped his hand to the side.

"Hello?" the elderly voice of the librarian called out. "Is anybody here?"

_Fuck_, Stacie thought._ This is it._

_This is where I'll kiss my position in the Barden Bellas goodbye._

The desk phone suddenly rang, and Donald breathed a sigh of relief, which Stacey found odd considering the mess they were in.

"What are you—"

"Grab your stuff," Donald commanded tersely, keeping his voice low as the distinct voice of the librarian started speaking. "Fix yourself and get the hell out of here. Tell the librarian you just came here a few minutes ago to look for your bag. Show it to her and leave without another word."

"What about you?" Stacie asked, her voice slightly louder than his. "You can't just walk out there and expect her not to notice anything."

"Don't get your panties in a twist, babe," Donald said confidently. "Maggie knows I've been here since three."

Stacie eyed him warily, scrutinizing him as he laid out his scheme for a clean getaway. "Oh-kay…"

Stacie twisted out of their current intimate position, dashing to the table where she left Devon's satchel. She smoothed out her dark locks and straightened her skirt. She tightened the denim jacket around her torso. Donald eyed her while leaning against the wall he had pinned her on not long ago; the shadows hid the unfaltering smirk on his face as he looked at her from head to toe. He was confident that this wasn't going to be their last "encounter".

Stacie turned on her heels, satchel slung on her shoulder, and was about to walk out into the open when Donald held her wrist and gave her another kiss, his tongue exploring her mouth for about three seconds before he pulled away.

"It was a pleasure doing business with you," Donald said with a wink, leaving Stacie begging for more of this.

More of _him._

Her breathing hitched for the nth time as she finally walked away from the uncontrollable sex machine in the corner.

Donald stood at the corner with hunger for pleasure burning inside him. He listened to her faint voice, explaining why she was here and Maggie acknowledged her existence before returning to her phone call. He listened to Stacie's footsteps as it slowly faded away into nothingness. He waited for another minute or two before emerging into the library's front portion. Maggie was still on the phone but she gave Donald a smile—Donald smiling back at the middle aged librarian—before stepping out of the place.

He pulled out something from his back pocket: a small book that fit perfectly in his back pocket, much to his convenience.

Donald stared at the front cover, chuckling to himself.

Who knew the Kama Sutra would spice up his time in Barden's dingy library?

* * *

**A/N:** As I promised on the previous chapter, a three thousand word limit for the chapters to come! This chapter has precisely 4,440 words, excluding this note! (Cue in the dramatic gasp.)

I have to say that it felt really weird writing this chapter because, fucking believe it or not, I have never written smut and/or heated scenes in my fics before. I mean, sure, I think about my OTPs acting all cuddly and fluffy and sweet and then BAM! One of them suddenly decides to shove the other one against the wall and everything else goes down in history. So if the little Stonald scene up there was a bit lacking in element when it comes to smothering themselves against each other, please understand that this was my first time writing such a scene. But moving on!

I personally enjoyed writing this chapter–save for the steamy bit because it was just plain weird—because I had the opportunity to add Amy, Beca, and my baby Devon into the mix. Oh, and Maggie the librarian, too. I was also able to pour out some ideas that have been eating me for quite some time now so that was cool, too. Anyway, thank you so much for the favourites, follows, and reviews! I never expected my fic to receive such a massive (for me anyways) reception from you guys.

But please tell me your honest-to-goodness opinion on this chapter. I also want to tell you ahead that I will not be writing porn; I will be writing scenes which I see fit in order for the story to advance. Said scene in this chapter will serve as a huge stepping stone into adding fuel to the fire for Donald an Stacie's friendship to bloom. Although I will not rush their "connection" with each other, keep in mind that I have yet to figure out the ending to this story. Please bear with me, cupcakes!

This has been a public service announcement by Aly aka _**wmynialler**_. :-)

**PS: **The rating has been change from **Rated T **to **Rated M**, just to be safe. Also, spare us both the awkwardness and just Google "Kama Sutra". Just do it!


	5. Diner

Stacie wanted to dig a ditch and bury herself alive as soon as she entered her room. All she wanted to do was take another hot shower to relieve herself of the tension she was feeling. Her emotions were in a whirlwind, what with guilt and pleasure battling against each other. Her self-control was nonexistent but it was only _partly _her fault.

The other half was Donald's._  
_

She wasn't exactly sure who Donald is, aside from common knowledge. Everyone knows his role as Bumper's right hand in the Treblemakers. He beatboxes and raps really well. He's the ladies' man around Barden, and Stacie thinks he's the reason why Kori was booted out of the Bellas. She did see them dancing during Aca-Initiation, despite her state of drunkenness. But are those all there is to him? Is he a junior? What's his course? Does he always dress up like a hipster? Does he even have a last name?

There were so many questions swirling around her brain that she didn't notice the two figures looming around in her bedroom until Amy yelled, "Move you bitches!" and dropped spread-eagle on her bed. The bed made an awful creaking sound, and Stacie thought it was going to collapse, but Amy sat upright and the bed was okay. Beca was sitting cross-legged on the floor with a white plastic box in front of her; in it are thick paperback books with yellowing pages of all sizes. Beca looked up at Stacie and grinned widely at her before returning her attention to the books. Amy's eyes were darting around the room and Stacie finally had the sense to speak up.

"What are you doing here?" Stacie asked in a surprised tone as she stepped forward.

Beca held up one of the books from the box. "Law student, huh."

"Impressive," Amy said with a nod. "But not as impressive as me being a theater major, yeah."

Beca rolled her eyes as she slid the box back underneath the bed, standing up and sitting beside Amy on the bed afterwards. Stacie looked at both of them with doe eyes. Self-consciousness suddenly took over her; she tugged on her top and smoothed out the front of her skirt in a final attempt to look "normal".

_Do they know? _Stacie thought. _Is that why they're here?_

"Uhh," Stacie mumbled. "I—"

"Are you okay?" Beca asked, folding her arms over her chest. "We didn't mean to intrude."

"We were wondering if you wanted to join us for dinner," Amy said matter-of-factly. "The diner right outside Barden."

"Oh," Stacie sighed in relief.

Paranoia was starting to become her best friend these past couple of days. But you can't blame her. She cared too much about being a part of the Bellas; being a Bella. But the constant encounters with Donald came barreling at her like Satan's little minion, testing her abstinence. It's like the world itself was telling her she can't be a Bella for long.

"No, it's fine," Stacie answered Beca. "I'm fine."

"Where were you?" Amy asked nonchalantly, earning a not-so-subtle nudge from Beca. "What? I'm just curious."

Stacie started shuffling her feet uncomfortably. "I was in the library." _Thank God I didn't stutter, _she thought. "Um, my roommate Devon asked me if I could go there to find her bag, which I did." Stacie held the small brown leather satchel in front of Amy and Beca. "She's finishing up some work in the laboratory but I bet she would have _loved _to meet you both."

"Maybe next time," Beca chided. "So, are you coming with us or what?"

Amy and Beca looked up at her expectantly, and Stacie couldn't fight back the tugging at the corner of her lips as a smile crept up on her face. She had a feeling she was going to be around these two entirely different people with clashing personalities that shouldn't mix well together (but do spectacularly) for quite a while. She tossed Devon's satchel on her empty bed and placed her hands on her hips.

"Give me ten minutes in the shower and we're off."

* * *

"Order up, ladies!" the waitress jeered, sliding three small plastic trays of fries on the smooth tabletop. "Spicy one in the middle."

Amy enthusiastically rubbed her palms together with a maniacal grin on her face. "That one is mine, thanks."

"Three cheeseburgers, two cans of Coke, and one glass of iced tea," the waitress chanted as she placed three circular plates with huge greasy cheeseburgers on them, then three tin soda cans, on the table. "Anything else?"

"No thank you," Beca answered. "Wait, can I have some mustard?"

"Coming right up," the waitress replied with a motherly smile on her face as she trotted off to the kitchens, leaving Amy, Beca, and Stacie alone once again.

The trio arrived a couple of minutes ago in a rundown diner called Jorkin's, which was right across the gates of Barden University, and it was nowhere near difficult to spot because of the massive red neon sign that glowed "Jorkin's" in the dark of the night. It was your regular diner with a tiled counter and bar stools occupied by your everyday folks sipping on steaming cups of coffee or cold fizzy drinks on one side and booths with sticky leather seats and scratched tables with a couple of inappropriate vandals scribbled in permanent ink pressed up on the other. There were various framed photographs—some of the diner during its early years and a couple showcased the customers they had served before—neatly hung on the walls. The wood paneling on the walls needed replacing; some of them had cracks and would easily be punched a hole through by a mere child. The red and white checkered floor bore scratches and scuff marks all over, causing its shine to partially fade in the light.

Stacey fell in love with the diner right away.

The distant clashing of pots and pans in the kitchen reminded her of how things were back home just a month ago, before she traveled all the way from New York City to Georgia, Atlanta—where Barden University was located. Ever since her cousin told her how great Barden was with its almost always class-free schedules and "aca-amazing" acapella groups, Stacie had been itching to leave middle school and pursue her dreams of being in a group where organized nerd singing was highly appreciated and enjoyed by everyone—even big tough guys with too many piercings on one ear and tattoos inked on their muscular shoulders—while being a law major. But she was 863 miles away from the Conrad's New York penthouse, which was always kept pristine by chambermaids every single day, and she suddenly felt homesick.

"Here you go, sweet pea," the waitress attended to Beca, handing her a yellow mustard container. "Enjoy your meal!"

"Thanks," Beca replied and the waitress headed over to the table next to theirs. She vigorously shook the condiment dispenser, flipped it upside down, and squeezed some mustard onto her cheeseburger. "You can never go wrong with mustard."

"Beca, you should really cut down the mustard just a _tad _bit," Amy suggested with her nose scrunched up from across them, since Beca and Stacie were seated together to give more room to Amy. Amy grabbed the tray of spicy fries and one of the two remaining burgers, sliding the other trays towards Beca and Stacie. "Which one of you ordered the iced tea?"

"Me," Stacie answered as she reached across the table for the clear glass filled to the brim with lemon-flavoured iced tea.

"Well, dig in!" Amy announced gleefully and the three of them started stuffing themselves with their greasy orders.

Stacie smiled as she picked on her fries and shoveled a handful to her mouth, her eyes widening in surprise. "Wow, thish ish really goof." Amy and Beca stifled laughs, and Stacie swallowed down the fries down quickly. "Seriously, these are the best fries I've ever tasted."

"I know, right?" Beca agreed, chewing on her burger. "I gotta hand it do my dad. He wasn't kidding when he told me Jorkin's serves the best burgers and fries within a hundred meter radius."

"Forget hundred meters!" Amy exclaimed as she looked up from her burger. "Jorkin's serves the best burgers and fries. Period. Not even Australian diners can cook up anything close to this."

Stacie started attacking her burger which was, undoubtedly, the juiciest and perfectly cooked burger she's ever consumed in her entire life. She was liking this rundown diner more and more. "Thanks for inviting me by the way. Devon couldn't make it in time for dinner, since we basically eat together. I thought I was going to have to skip a meal tonight because I don't know anyone else to go with."

"No problem," Beca said with a smile. "Amy and I just happened to pass by each other on the hallway and I asked her if she wanted to grab a bite here."

"And I couldn't say no," Amy chimed in, popping the lid of her Coke can open. "Aubrey texted me at around three earlier today and told me to go to the auditorium with a decent pair of trainers as soon as possible. I thought something had gone wrong or there was an emergency meeting. But, boy, was I wrong."

"What happened?" Stacie asked, cocking her head to one side with a perfectly sculpted eyebrow raised.

Beca snorted, causing Amy to shoot a stern glare her way. "Aubrey called her in for an hour's worth of cardio workout."

The two of them burst out laughing (Stacie had to drop her burger back on the plate) as Amy inserted a straw into her Coke and took indignant sips while glaring at the two ladies in front of her. Amy didn't exactly appreciate Aubrey's vestige enthusiasm on shaping her up to fully become a Bella woman. She _tried _to explain that cardio wasn't her thing but Aubrey didn't have any of it and later on the auditorium speakers were blasting "Girls Just Want to Have Fun" by Cyndi Lauper while she jogged (more like crawled on all fours) up the narrow steps with Aubrey hot on her trail.

"I'm telling you, that gal is mental," Amy said, her voice laced with certainty. "Descendant of Adolf Hitler himself, yeah."

"Is Aubrey even part German?" Beca asked in an amused tone, trying to poke a straw in her Coke can without looking at it.

"She better be," Amy mused. "But back to the matter at hand."

"I do have one question," Stacie exclaimed as she chewed on one of Amy's spicy fries. "Why the hoodies?"

Stacie did a quick assessment on their outfits. After she trampled out of the bathroom, Beca told her to dress comfortably. Preferably in jeans and a hoodie, Beca had said, and it was then that she noticed her two guests were clad in hoodies, jeans, and sneakers. To be quite frank their get-ups looked suspicious—like they were en route to rob a bank and they dropped by to ask her if she wanted to tag along—but Stacie knew they weren't bad people and it was actually nice of them to ask her if she wanted to eat dinner with them. So she shook the silly thought out of her head and raided her suitcase (She wasn't quite done with unpacking yet) for a clean shirt and one of her oversized NYU sweatshirts.

Amy was wearing a purple _Abercrombie & Fitch _hoodie and Beca was in a black zip hoodie with a Nirvana shirt underneath._  
_

"It's for extra protection," Beca answered plainly, as if there was nothing suspicious with three young adults looking like they were on the run from the police. "You'll never know when those Treblemakers will appear out of the blue."

As soon as the word "Treblemakers" slipped out of Beca's mouth, Stacie stiffened on the spot. Never mind acting inconspicuous. She might as well writhe to her death every time someone mentions something related to those damn Treblemakers. _More like troublemakers_, Stacie thought. _I can't believe I almost—__  
_

"Stacie!"

Stacie jumped on her seat mumbling, "What? What?! What happened?"

She quickly gathered her wits, staring at Amy then Beca, who both had looks of utmost befuddlement upon their faces. Amy had one eyebrow raised. Beca was looking at her as if she were an escaped patient from an insane asylum. She couldn't blame them though. She was starting to believe she _was _going crazy.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Amy asked in alarm, momentarily forgetting her cheeseburger. "You're acting—"

"Weird," Beca finished. "Look, Stace _— _can I call you that? _— _well, I know the three of us just recently met, and we have all the time in the world to get to know each other. But if something's bothering you right now, you can tell us and we promise you, your secret's safe with us."

"Yeah," Amy added with a nod, "you can trust us. I mean, I don't know. I just met you gals but I can't help feeling really... _secure_ when the two of you are around. Unlike those other girls. What were their names? Cynthia Rose who, I honestly think, is a lesbian. Did you see the way she stared at your boobs? Lesbihonest! And then there's that Asian girl Lilly. Does she even speak above a decibel?"

"Hey, don't be so quick to judge," Beca said in an amused tone, then she diverted her attention back to Stacie. "But Amy's right. I have a feeling I'll be around you two a _lot _in the future. But that's not the point here." Beca shook her head vigorously. "If something's bothering you_—_"

"I'm having sexual relations with a Treble," Stacie suddenly blurted out loud enough for only Amy and Beca to hear. As soon as she realized what she had just said, her hands quickly flew to cover her mouth.

_That's it, _Stacie thought. _My life is over__._

Amy suddenly choked on her burger, red splotches suddenly appearing on her face as she tried to cough up the meat in her throat. Beca was too stunned to do anything but stare at her with bulging eyes and an open mouth. She's done it. She wasn't even going to show up for Bella rehearsals tomorrow. Her hands slowly withdrew from her mouth and she looked at her fries. She didn't have much of an appetite anymore. She managed to muster a weak smile which quickly faltered. Everything else around them went about regularly; it's as if the three of them were stuck in a separate time frame from the others. It made Stacie more nervous. Not like she needed anything else to convince her it was her cue to leave. So she slowly slid out of the booth, Amy still choking and Beca still staring at her as if she's grown another head.

Well, so much for a fun dinner.

She didn't know what possessed her to blatantly proclaim there was something going on with her and the "enemy". But the way Amy and Beca assured her she could trust them made her do it. Or maybe because she just wanted to tell someone and get the whole thing off her chest for once. Maybe it's the latter. She wasn't quite sure and quite frankly she didn't care. She broke the most essential rule of being a Bella and for that she was going to pay for it.

And two of the people she thought she was going to get along well know it, just because of a _tiny _slip up.

"I-I'm gonna go," Stacie stuttered, pointing at the front door.

"No, Stacie, wait," Beca sighed, running a hand through her hair. "Just, uh, sit down, will you?"

Stacie looked at her curiously, trying do decipher what she was going at. Amy finally calmed down and took gradual sips from her Coke. Then she diverted her attention to Stacie with an expectant look on her face.

"Girl, take a seat, okay?" Amy requested. Her Australian accent was somewhat thicker than it usually was.

Stacie bit her bottom lip; she was unsure of what to do. She had nothing to hide now so what's there to lose? She let out a huge breath and materialized beside Beca once again.

"I've got nothing to hide anymore," Stacie said bleakly. "So, yeah. I'm having sexual relations with a Treble. Now can I please j—"

"Who?" Beca asked but instead of that judging tone Stacie was expecting, there was a strange tinge of amusement in her voice. "I'm pretty sure it's not Bumper though. Can't flirt with anyone to save his life. Little dude's bit of a chub too and I'm sure he can't get to you level."

"Eh, Bumper's alright," Amy commented; she sounded jealous. Beca shot her an questioning look which she quickly responded with, "Oh, but he's a total ass."

"Right..." Beca trailed off, and it made Stacie stifle a small laugh. "Anyway, back to the matter at hand. Who is it?"

"Um," Stacie hesitated but then again, she had nothing to hide anymore. "His name's, uh, D-Donald?"

"Donald?" Amy repeated in an alarming tone. "As in _the _Donald Montgomery?"

"Wait, hold up," Stacie cut in, flailing her arms around. "Does Donald Montgomery wear those hipster-esque glasses, like, all the time?"

"Yeah, that's the one," Beca confirmed, nodding her head. "Jesse told me all about him."

Amy and Stacie scooted closer to Beca, listening to every detail she delivered. Apparently, Donald Montgomery is a Junior banking and finance major. His parents own a bank somewhere in France and he's the only child in the family, thus being the "sole heir to the throne". He's actually holding top marks in his course right now. He's notorious for being the ladies' man around Barden (a statement Stacie can fully agree on considering the events) and has been known to hook up with random ladies for one night stands and nothing else. He's really good at beatboxing and rapping and is said to be Bumper's "adviser" on which songs to include in their setlist. (Stacie couldn't help but think Bumper's more of a saint than Aubrey will ever be). He's actually quite intelligent despite his "calm and collected" attitude. Not to mention he oftentimes appears arrogant, confident, and dense to most people. But Jesse said Donald's quiet most of the time, and he's serious when he needs to be serious, especially during classes and meetings.

Donald Montgomery was ambitious, cunning, and not to mention drop dead gorgeous.

Oh, and he was _definitely _Stacie's type.

But let's keep that on the down low, shall we?

"Wow, Jesse sure knows a lot about this Donald chap," Amy concluded. Their plates were cleared by now, tin cans bare of any liquid. Amy pushed off the plates to one side.

"Tell me about it," Beca agreed, blowing a loose fringe away from her face. "But Jesse's okay, I guess."

"Oh, I've been meaning to ask you," Stacie suddenly remembered, crossing her legs underneath the table, "what's up with you and Jesse?"

Beca coughed, averting Stacie's eyes, and she could have sworn there was a slight tinge of pink of her cheeks. "N-Nothing's 'up' with me and Swanson. Why would you think that? We're just friends."

Stacie nudged the shorter figure beside her with a teasing smile on her face. "Don't worry, Beca, we won't tell." She winked, causing Beca to roll her eyes.

"You don't have to," Beca replied matter-of-factly. "Aubrey already talked to me. She said I had a 'toner' for Jesse."

"What in the world is a 'toner'?" Amy asked, as if reading Stacie's mind.

"It's a musical boner," Beca scoffed. "Anyway, nothing's up with me and Jesse, okay? He's an odd guy, to say the least. But that's it."

"Alright, we'll let it slide this time, Mitchell," Amy teased.

Stacie laughed, momentarily forgetting the dilemma she had. But she quickly snapped out of it and looked at Amy then Beca. "So, um, now you know. I don't wanna go into details about the actual _moment _but—"

Almost instantly Amy and Beca plugged in their fingers to their ears, pulling sour faces. Then they laughed, causing one of the waitresses to look at them weirdly. "Of course we don't wanna know about the actual moment, Stace," Beca said.

"But please know that your secret is safe with us," Amy added, crossing the area above her heart with her finger.

"You know, considering you didn't actually _do _it with Donald."

"_And _it's nice knowing we share something Aubrey doesn't know."

"_And _will never know because we're not telling her, like, ever."

"So don't you worry, okay?"

Stacie's heart swelled at the words exchanged by Amy and Beca. A sense of gratitude washed over her like tsunami tides and she just wanted to pull of them into a hug right then and there. She was wrong to think horribly about these two; they're two of the most trusting _and _trustworthy people she's met so far. They're both really cool, too. It's as if Stacie was reunited with two sisters from totally different parents.

Beca pulled her sleeve up and checked her watch. "It's almost eight. I think it's time to head back. What do you guys think?"

Amy and Stacie nodded and the three of them rose and slid out of the dining booth. Beca headed to the counter and thanked the waitress who served them earlier, sliding her a tip. The waitress nodded, smiled, and waved at the three of them before returning to her duties. The trio stepped outside; the cool evening air biting their faces harshly. Stacie combed through her hair with her fingers as they crossed the road back to Barden University's front gates.

The security guard greeted them a good evening, and they entered the school grounds. There were a handful of students roaming around; some of them were munching on food, others were just taking a nighttime stroll. Beca jogged ahead and turned around so she was facing Amy and Stacie, walking backwards with her hands jammed on the pockets of her hoodie.

"It was nice dining with you tonight, ladies," Beca said in a posh British accent; the three of them burst out laughing right away. "Okay, okay, enough with the jokes. I have to get a move on unpacking more of my stuff. Catch you guys later!"

"Wait, I'll come with you," Amy said. "My room's just ahead of yours. What about you, Stace? Is it alright if I go with Beca?"

"Yeah, it's fine," Stacie answered, waving them off. "My room's in the other direction anyway. And thanks. For tonight. God, I would have starved if you didn't invite me."

"No problem," Beca said with a smile. And with that, she and Amy started walking down the other direction, leaving Stacie all by her lonesome again.

The dark haired beauty sighed, but she wasn't in any way sad. She was actually quite happy because a) she has two new friends, b) a massive weight has been lifted off her chest for telling Amy and Beca about her "dilemma", and c) she had something interesting to tell Devon as soon as she enters their shared room. Speaking of Devon, she must be back already, since she said she had to wrap up her work and was going to be finished by seven. So Stacie marched to the left side of the grounds to her room. The path was considerably dark, and she mentally cursed whoever neglected to put up some decent lighting around the area. She checked her pockets for her rape whistle which she, of course, totally forgot to bring.

_Note to self: Always check pockets for rape whistle before leaving room,_ Stacie thought.

She trudged on, almost tripping on a crack in the pavement, but someone caught her before she could land face first on the ground.

"Careful there, babe," the voice said, hands firmly locked around her shoulders, and panic settled in the pits of Stacie's stomach as she realized who the voice belonged to.

_That rich velvety voice..._

She met his face_—_even in the dark she could still make out his perfectly sculpted features_—_and her stomach suddenly lurched forward as he pulled her upright and smirked that stupid smirk with his tongue poking out between his teeth.

"Watch where you're going next time," Donald said, walking past her and stopping a distance away. "I'm not always gonna be there to catch you."

He winked and gave her a final wave before continuing to walk down the dim path, leaving Stacie flustered as ever.

* * *

**A/N: **Okay, I'm setting myself on fire for being such a _horrible _author. I haven't updated in almost two months_—__TWO!____—_and I'm really sorry about that. I just got distracted a _lot _while writing this and I didn't have the inspiration to. I don't wanna write stuff when I'm in a shit mood because I'll end up writing shit if you know what I mean. Also I didn't proofread but I never really proofread anything so... But anyway! Thanks so much for the reviews (_35 OF THEM HOLY SHIT!_) and I promise you **_I AM NOT ABANDONING THIS__ STORY!_** Faves and reviews are always appreciated. I know some of them are a bit out of character at the moment (I think?) but don't worry; I'm just getting started after all.

Heads up: Senior years starts in three weeks for me and I need to work extra hard for my grades because I have dreams and aspirations (hehe) so I need to focus on school more. Updates aren't gonna come quickly anymore and, again, I'm sorry for that. But please keep in mind that abandoning this story is out of the question.

So, yeah. I hope you enjoyed this chapter with over 4K words, not including this pointless note!

PS: I'm still trying to think of a suitable banner/cover art for this story so stay tuned for that. :-)

PPS: I was _wmyniall _but I had to change my username because my little sister found my account and that's pretty much one of the worst things that could happen in life so please understand!


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